


A Stunning Revelation

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Derek Morgan - Fandom
Genre: F/M, child molestation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9036767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

One of the things you loved most about Derek was that despite the nature of his job, he almost always came home with a smile on his face; he was good at separating with work life from your home life. You knew if he came home in a bad mood that the case was particularly difficult. As soon as he walked in the door, you knew today had been a bad day. He walked in the door with a tight grimace that seemed to be getting tighter by the second.

“Hey, babe,” you said softly, gauging how he was feeling. If he snapped at you, you were going to leave him alone for now, but if he didn’t you might be able to ask him about the day. It was difficult for you to hear about the horrific things he came into contact with every day, but you also didn’t want him to drown in these things all by himself. After two years together, you wanted to share the burden when you could.

Without saying a word, he walked over to you, pulling you to him for a soft but needy kiss. As he pulled away you asked him what you wanted to know. “Bad day?”  
“Yea,” he said flatly. “Really bad day.” He sat down on the couch, rubbing his temples as he hung his head in his lap. You sat down beside him, rubbing his back for a few moments before probing him further.

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to hear that,” he said. He was trying to protect you, and you did appreciate it, but he was the love of your life and you needed - and wanted - to help him.

“I may not need to, but you don’t either. I don’t want you to take this to bed by yourself,” you reassured him.

He sat back, sinking into the couch as he stared off into the distance for a few seconds. “Our unsub was targeting kids. Young boys,” he started, the disgust on his face apparent. “He would keep them for a week, molest them and then kill them, leaving their bodies on their parents’ doorsteps.”

Dear god, you thought. What drove people to be so sick and disgusting. “You caught him though?” you were almost sure they had. He normally led with that they hadn’t been caught if that were the case.

“Yea,” he said, his thumbs fidgeting as he spoke. “But not before he killed two.”

“You were called in after the first one?” you asked, knowing how the BAU worked at this point in your relationship. He nodded, opening his mouth to speak before stopping himself. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” That wasn’t like him.

“It’s not nothing. What is it?”

He looked directly at you, a sheen of tears beginning to form. “Carl Buford.” The name meant nothing to you. Who was he?

“Who’s Carl Buford?” you asked, fearing the worst.

He looked down once again at his fidgeting fingers. “He’s the man who molested me.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Someone had touched him. Someone had made him feel unsafe. Someone had taken advantage of your boyfriend’s childhood innocence and made him feel afraid. If this man wasn’t in prison, you would kill him yourself. Even the thought that this man might still be out on the street made you physically ill. “You were...?” you started to cry. 

He just nodded, not looking up. He was ashamed. “From the ages of 13 to 16. I just never told you because...because I was afraid you’d think differently of me.”  
“Oh, baby,” you cried, “I could never think differently of you for something like that. He took advantage of you. That bastard took advantage of a child’s trust and made you feel unsafe. You did nothing wrong.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head to your chest. After a few moments, you asked him the other thing you needed to know. “Is he in prison?”

“No,” he said, your heart dropping, “he’s dead.”

“Good,” you replied.

“He died in prison last year. He’s actually the reason I go to therapy once a week, not as much because of the job, although we do occasionally talk about the job in general,” he said. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you about him - about that part of my past. I didn’t mean to be deceitful.”

“You needed to tell me in your own time,” you reassured him. “It’s okay, I promise.” You pulled his chin up to meet your gaze and took his lips in yours. Normally, when he had a bad day you’d take him to the bedroom and do one of the things you did best, but in this moment, it seemed fitting to cradle his head on your chest and sit there in silence. Nothing that happened in his past could ever lessen your love for him.


End file.
